Work Text:
April 2006
Of all the things James Bond had been expecting to find in M’s flat, (Olivia Mansfield’s flat, his mind noted smugly) a sleepy, half-naked twenty-something unbonded Omega pointing a shotgun at him was not it. For a moment the two just stared at each other and then the Omega snorted, lowering the shot gun and slipping it back into a small, hidden compartment in the side of a bookcase.
Blue eyes followed the Omega’s movements as bare feet padded across tile and clicked on the lights. A modern living room flared to life, a gas fireplace igniting moments later. The light threw the boy’s pale skin in sharp relief and James couldn’t quite keep himself from an appreciative once over.
He was tall for an Omega, perhaps only an inch or two shorter then James, with a mass of ruffled, curly dark hair that fell liberally over the rims of thick black glasses. He was clad only in Doctor Who sleep pants, revealing miles upon miles of pale unblemished skin pulled tight over youth and runner’s muscles. James personally preferred female Omegas, but that didn’t mean that the agent didn’t appreciated the beauty of the male form when the time called for it.
“You should know Mummy won’t be happy that you’re here.”
Mummy? Good lord. The agent shuddered to think what that childhood must have been like.
“Probably not.” James admitted, eyes still locked on the lithe frame. It would, however, piss M off something terrible.
“You’re lucky Papa’s in Italy or you’d be dead,” the boy said casually, padding his way across the living room and past James’ form, seemingly fearless of the presence of a double-O in his home. That was most likely another truth. James didn’t want to meet the Alpha who managed to subdue M enough to mate.
The Omega shook his head, lips quirked in a little smile before turning away from the agent to open a seemingly hidden laundry closet.
“I know you’re new to all this,” the boy bent over, digging through the bottom dryer and the Alpha smirked at the perfect view of a pert, rounded bottom it provided him, “but I’ve found it’s best not to make her angry, you know. She can be quite terrifying when she wishes to be.”
James had no doubt of that; M was the only Omega besides his own mother that had ever been capable of cowing him into submission. The Omega turned, sliding a faded grey t-shirt on before hopping down the small incline and back into the lowered living room. He stopped in front of James, head cocked to the side as if in thought. His eyes were a pale green behind his glasses, almost grey in color.
“You’re not afraid of me.” And the Omega clearly wasn’t. It was surprising though, as usually James’ scent had Omega’s tripping over themselves by his mere presence alone. Then again, he imagined being M’s little boy gave him a doctorate in being a tough little bitch. He gave the Omega a sharkish grin. “You should be. All alone with an unknown Alpha. Isn’t this what mothers warn about in their bedtime tales?”
The boy gave a short, bark of a laugh. “Please, 007, you’re smarter than that.”
The agent’s eyes narrowed, letting out a low growl tumble from his chest. “You know who I am.”
“Mm.” The Omega just smiled magnanimously, seemingly unaffected by the sound. He let his eyes run up and down James’ body in a slow, obvious show of appreciation before flicking that light gaze back up to meet his own. “I know all of Mummy’s pets.”
James quirked an eyebrow both at the term and the unwavering stare. The Alpha leaned his body in closer, crowding the shorter man but the Omega didn’t give any ground nor drop his stare.
“I’m afraid you’ll find I’m not quite that easy, Mr. Bond.” The boy said casually, before sidestepping him completely. “And just what are you doing here?” He wondered, tone soft with interest before slipping around the Alpha and to the open laptop and picked apart mobile.
“Tracing a text message,” James answered as he followed the boy over to the desk. He leaned over his shoulder, placing both hands on the arm rests, personal space utterly ignored, “or I was, before I was so rudely interrupted.”
“Said the man who broke into my home.” The Omega said flatly, finger tips flying over the keyboard with the movements of one utterly familiar with the layout. He pulled the information James had been seeking out in a quarter of the time it would have taken the agent. “Looks like you’ll be off to the Bahamas, Mr. Bond. I’m almost jealous.”
“Really?” The agent quipped, turning his head and taking a deep inhale of the Omega’s natural scent. The boy shivered at the action. “I wouldn’t think you were an outdoors type.”
It was unbelievably stupid, flirting with M’s son. If there was ever anyone who was firmly on the ‘no’ list it would be his boss’ kid, but James had never really done well with restraint and the agent couldn’t quite resist the temptation to mess with the proud little Omega.
And he smelled so good…
James inhaled again, this time allowing the barest touch of his nose to trace along that creamy white skin. He was rewarded with the minutest tilt of the Omega’s neck, an ever-so-slight sign of submission. The Alpha let out a puff of air as he exhaled, feeling his groin twitch in interest as the boy’s breath hitched. He was seriously considering diving in for a taste – just a small one, just…there, at the pulse point where the scent would be the strongest – when the sound of an approaching lift shattered the moment.
The agent stepped back, reason arriving with a vengeance as he glanced from the flushed boy’s form to the lift doors. M would have his balls on a platter if she even suspected he’d been going after her son. But the Omega simply stood, shutting the laptop and slipped soundlessly towards a dark hallway.
James followed the boy’s movements until he disappeared into a room at the far end, not yet unable to completely disengage the biological part of his brain that was insisting he follow and lay down the little Omega and take him apart piece by piece until he was nothing but a whimpering, begging mess.
But then M arrived, the flat filling with her potent scent, looking more ferocious then he could remember.
“You’ve got a bloody cheek.” The Omega growled, her aged countenance flashing angrily.
“Sorry,” James gave her his best grin, pushing the imagescentfeel of the boy from his mind, “I’ll shot the cameras out next time."